War
by Pandoras-Closet
Summary: Three Years Later, Commander Misaki finally phones home...and its not for a ride home from a party. (MoldiverTenchi crossover)
1. The Phone Call Home

"Basic physics. A beam of light can be diverted. Can I go home now, Mommy?" -Flynn, "Tron"  
  
**************  
  
"The Moldiver Mark Two? You made another?"  
  
"Yeah. What? I thought you'd be pleased."  
  
"Well duh. Thank you, big brother."  
  
"You're welcome. Um...Mirai, are you sure you want to do this?"  
  
"Are you kidding? This is gonna be great!"  
  
**************  
  
Two years later...  
  
"Son of a bitch..."  
  
It has been said that a land with a hero(ine) in it, will usually find tasks for him or her to do.  
  
"Horse raping..."  
  
When recently told this, Mirai Oroza's response peeled the paint off the wall, blew the speaker's hair back and left them quivering in abject fear of soft silky things.  
  
"Grandstanding idiotic shit for brains..."  
  
Mirai, you see, was firmly convinced that Japan, and most of Eastern Eurasia for that matter, was out to get her.  
  
How?  
  
By driving her insane.  
  
"Kami-be-damned...FUCK-OFFS!"  
  
Ever since she had become Moldiver and acquired the title of "Tokyo's Guardian Angel", ninety percent of the lunatics in the city had decided that he or she was a superhero, supervillan, or somehow got exposed to toxic goo, gas, ooze, radiation, or some other shit that probably wasn't good for you. When they didn't immediately disintegrate and instead became a mutant/superhuman/Demigod, they immediately made a stupid costume and set out to either join Moldiver in her "crusade against evil" or try and kill her/take over the world/Tokyo/Japan/commit genocide or one of a hundred other stupid manga-esque plots. The rest built suits and proceeded to do the same thing.  
  
If she sat down and added up the time she spent saving those idiots from their own delusions versus the time she spent doing some actual good, she was willing to bet she'd find more of the former then the latter.  
  
And of course, if that wasn't enough, there was Professor Machinegal.  
  
Machinegal was the living embodiment of the old Chinese proverb: "Insanity is doing the same thing in the same way and expecting different results."  
  
Roughly about three months after the launch of the Sakigake, Machinegal's Superdolls had attacked an office building. After systematically killing each and every person inside, they had then leveled it before erecting a banner which ordered Tokyo to hail Emperor Machinegal. The move had caught Moldiver by surprise, she'd been asleep when it happened and like most, had found out about it as the thunder of it's collapse had rolled across the city in the early morning light.  
  
It was a complete hundred and eighty turn around for Machinegal, who up until that point, had been a thief of old technology from the late 20th and early 21st century.   
  
What had made him change his mind, she couldn't say. Despite their many battles, she'd never actually come face to face with the mad bastard, only with his usual six agents. The seventh one-Isabelle-had died in the sun during the Sakigake's launch.  
  
She sighed and put such thoughts out of her mind as she rocketed over the metropolis that was mid twenty-first century Tokyo at three times the speed of sound. No sonic booms marked her passage, no noise of any kind. There was only the subtle red glow of her flight field, nearly invisible against the bright light of the noontime sky. The GPS system informed her that she was three degrees off course and she shifted her angle and increased her speed as she descended.  
  
********  
  
One of the advantages to being able to move at near light speeds without creating sonic booms is that its difficult to be seen, and nobody noticed as she landed behind a building at the Kamiru shrine. Taking a precautionary glance around, she reached behind her back and then through her shirt and pulled out a small, circuit covered rectangle. For a moment, she glowed and then she was gone to be replaced by a very naked Mirai Ozora.  
  
"So how did it go?" came her brother's voice over her ear piece as she opened her satchel and pulled out her clothes.  
  
""I swear, if one more fat woman puts on a spandex costume and tries to help or hinder me..." Mirai replied as she fastened her bra. After her tampering with the first unit had produced some...unexpected side effects, Hiroshi had absolutely forbid her to touch his computer in any way, shape or form without his direct supervision. He had also insisted on revamping her outfit to make it more 'superheroic'. Unlike the previous outfit, which had resembled a dance costume, the new suit was a long sleeved white and red sailor blouse with red shoulder armor over a black spandex turtleneck. Her pants were pink with red high-heeled boots that came just up to above her knees. Black gloves and a dark blue cape completed the ensemble, flaring behind her like wings in flight and enclosing her in it's depths when she was on the ground. The helmet with it's blue visor was sleeker, but still unmistakable.  
  
"Are you ever gonna tell me what happened to 'this is gonna be great'?"  
  
"Shaddup," Mirai snarled and removed the ear piece, her thumb flicking it off. With practiced motions, she pulled on her shirt and pants and slid her feet into her shoes. After two years, she had refined speed dressing to an art form, and could put on the most complicated outfit in under two minutes. It was kind of cool, but cool didn't pay the bills, especially when you were as addicted to the shopping mall as Mirai was. Everyone needed a vice or two.  
  
Fortunately for her, her curves, athletic figure and natural poise made her an ideal model, pitch woman, and pageant contestant. Taking the crown, walking the runway, or starring in a commercial was good for a few months of keeping the creditors away.  
  
For a moment, just a moment, the temptation to use the mol-unit and just take what she wanted reared its head. Her hands began shaking and moved to her pocket when she had another vision, this one of a little girl whom she had saved from being crushed from debris some months back. The kid's face was one of wide-eyed adoration and it gave Mirai the strength to push the temptation away. 'I'm Moldiver to help people,' she thought to herself. 'That's why I have the unit. To help people. Not hurt them, help them.' Her hands steady once more, she slung the satchel over her shoulder and headed for the shrine to pray as she had every day for the past two years, for the safe return of Kaoru Misaki, the first human to go beyond the confines of Sol, and more importantly, her soulmate.  
  
********  
  
Six months later...  
  
"An upgrade?" Mirai asked skeptically as she examined the slim rectangle that was the mol-unit. It was now metallic black and silver, with no visible circuits, just the green orb of the mol crystal.  
  
"Yep," Hiroshi said with a smile. "Mostly longer battery life, some additional communications equipment, and an Electronic Counter Measures suite which should render you completely invisible!" He cackled maniacally for a few seconds.  
  
"Well that's fine," Mirai said. "Until someone points an infrared or ultraviolet camera at me." She rolled her eyes and sighed theatrically. "Don't you watch any TV?"  
  
"Mirai...if infrared or ultraviolet was a threat, you would have been found out a long time ago. Hello, full spectrum security cameras at the ropeway and shooter gates? Full spectrum tracking equipment? The suit is a transdimensional manifestation that only registers on the visible portion of the light spectrum."  
  
Mirai stared at him blankly and Hiroshi sighed. Mirai was very bright, with an IQ that was around genius level (the tests contradicted each other as to the exact number), but she had no aptitude for, or rather no interest, in technology. The more complicated aspects of all things silicon and anything more then basic physics made her eyes glaze over. Still, she had a knack for chemistry, even if she only used her skills to make homemade makeup. "The mol-suit's exterior temperature is that of the air around it, so infra-red won't pick it up, and it doesn't register on the ultraviolet light spectrum." He looked down, tapping his chin. "I should really find out why it does that."   
  
"Oh." Mirai stared the mol-unit for a moment longer and then looked up to see Hiroshi staring at his bare feet.   
  
"And new socks," he was muttering, "I definitely need new socks. I can see right through these."  
  
"Geniuses..." Mirai muttered in exasperation and hit him with a sheaf of papers, jolting him back to reality.  
  
"Huh? Oh...er...yes, um, you can only leave the suite on for eleven minutes. After that, the unit automatically shuts off for one hour to prevent overheating and fused circuits."   
  
"A time limit on the suit? I thought you took that out."  
  
"Not the suit, the suite. The ECM suite. It takes a lot of power and generates a lot of heat within the unit. As long as you don't use the suite, the unit has no time limit and no heat problems. But, once you turn on the suite, the timer kicks in. It's that or risk permanently damaging the unit." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "It's not much, but it should give you another edge against Machinegal and Moldiver Three, if he ever shows up again." Hiroshi didn't say it, but the fact that there was someone else out there with mol-tech had him very jumpy.  
  
"Yeah, its weird how he just disappeared after the launch" Mirai said. "I thought people like that always wanted rematches." Her cheerful smile became almost hungry with anticipation. "I'm ready anytime he is, the bastard."  
  
"Changing subjects," Hiroshi said. Mirai had definitely changed in two years. Gazing daily into the dark shadows of human behavior both here in Tokyo and various places throughout Eastern Eurasia had, psychologically speaking, altered Mirai in ways that Hiroshi didn't want to think about. The eyes were windows to the soul, and the view through Mirai's was daily getting further away from cheerful and closer to terrifying. Their parents hadn't seen it, but that was only a matter of time. Especially after the recent affair with the food riots in Banladesgh. He repressed a shudder. Moldiver had tied up the man behind the riots and then flown him to almost three miles over Southeast Eurasia, and set the rope on fire. For three minutes, as one by one, the charred fibers snapped, Moldiver had hovered, watching calmly as he blustered and threatened. Finally, as the last fibers began to snap, he confessed to his crimes and she caught him just as the rope snapped. As they came back down, the man babbled, confessing to everything from armed robbery to child prostitution and a single jerk on the rope caused him to repeat his confessions to the police.  
  
Later, when she had returned home, Hiroshi had asked her what she would have done had he not confessed.  
  
"I have an audition tomorrow," was her reply. "I need to sleep." With that, she had turned and gone into her room, closing the door behind her.  
  
A sheaf of papers hit him. "Huh?" he asked.  
  
"You said you were changing subjects," Mirai reminded him. "Changing to what?"  
  
"To...um...oh yes! Nozumu wrote us from M.I.T."  
  
"Oh?" Mirai asked. Soon after the launch of the Sakigake, the youngest Oroza sibling had been discovered building his very own mecha. Proud as could be, and with a little help from Hiroshi's mentor and her friend Professor Amagi, their mother had packed the young genius off to M.I.T.' youth scientists program, an international effort to find and develop the talent of young Technologists. Without Amagi, who had not only founded the program, but had a seat on the Board of Directors, Nozumu would have been put on the waiting list and it would have been several years before he got in.   
  
Nozumu hadn't been very happy about it, but she wouldn't have any of it. "No son of mine with this sort of potential is going to squander his gift by sitting around this house," she had said.  
  
"How is he?" Mirai asked.   
  
"Hard to say," Hiroshi said. "It was a short note. Sounds like they're keeping him pretty busy."  
  
"Well that's good," Mirai said as she pocketed the mol-unit. Then she glanced at her watch. "Eeep! I'm late!"  
  
*********************  
  
Six more months pass...  
  
Mirai yawned as she slipped in her window and set the unit on her night stand. After an already horrendous day on the set, Hiroshi had called and told her that he had heard via the net that a tech-pirate named Kawaso had broken out of jail, again, and swiped an experimental military land sea and air craft. He had then painted it different colors and tried to sell it back to its original owners. Needless to say, Kawaso's name didn't exactly make companies tremble in fear.  
  
The problem was that Kawaso was very good at hiding and Moldiver had spent most of the night going through the Three Towers level by level trying to find him and the stolen craft.  
  
She'd found him on one of the residential levels in Tower Three behind a billboard. How he had gotten it there without anyone noticing was a mystery. "Not my department," she mumbled as she plugged the unit into the charger. Though the unit didn't have a limiter, it was powered by a battery, and Mirai prudently recharged the battery on a daily basis. You never knew when you'd be away from a power outlet and she had used the ECM for a few minutes to sneak up on Kawaso.  
  
Throwing on an oversized shirt, she crawled into bed and fell asleep even as she was pulling the covers up.  
  
The slamming of her bedroom door woke Mirai up, offering the view of Hiroshi, standing in the doorway, lit by the hall light.  
  
"Come on! It's all over the news!"  
  
"What is?" she groaned. It felt like she had only gone to sleep ten minutes ago. Her gaze fell on her clock. It had been only ten minutes ago. 'I'll kill him,' she thought. 'Where's my bokken?'  
  
"Hurry!" With that, he ran off and she could hear him banging on the door to their parent's room.  
  
Finally, the thought that he wouldn't have woken both her and their parents up unless it was important made itself known and yawning, Mirai pulled on her robe and walked down the hallway to the living room. Hiroshi was already sitting in front of the TV, staring at it as though the fate of the universe depended on how much attention he was paying.  
  
"Once again," the newscaster was saying. "the S.E.T.I. project in Silicon Valley has confirmed that the S.O.R.T.A., or Sol Orbiter Radio Telescope Array, which orbits Pluto, has received a signal from somewhere in the Constellation of Draco. All we know at this point is that message contains audio and video elements and appears to be on the same hyper-wavelength radio frequency used to communicate with the Sakigake during the launch sequence." At that, the fog of sleep vanished from Mirai's mind. "A ZIC Aerospace spokesperson would only say that ZIC is working closely with S.E.T.I. to decode the transmission, which is apparently garbled and will reveal new information as it-wait." The newscaster paused and pressed a finger to her ear piece. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I've just been informed that they've cleaned up the audio portion of the transmission as best they could. We go now to the satellite feed."  
  
The image of the newscaster dissolved into the image of a man. He was tall and broad-shouldered with black hair was cut in a military style. The picture, a still image from the Sakigake's press kit was a good three years out of date, but Mirai drank it in anyways.  
  
"This is Pilot Kaoru Misaki of the Dimension Jump Project SZZZZZKK Contact, repeat, First Contact FSHHHHKKKK Heavy Damage. I-" There was the sound of an explosion and a tortured, animalistic howl. "PSHHHHNNNKT gake completly destroyed RRRSKKKK requesting assistance. FSHHHHKKKK Moldiver SKZZZZNIKT " There was another explosion and the sound of someone shouting in an alien, harshly beautiful language. The picture vanished to be replaced by the newscaster, her face completely pale. "I'm...I'm told that the message repeats after that...second explosion. More after this."  
  
Hiroshi bolted from the room.  
  
********  
  
The next few days passed in a blur for Mirai. When not working or sleeping she was camped in front of the TV, her portable computer on her lap. Hiroshi had locked himself in his room, emerging only to eat or use the facilities.  
  
All over the world, most people were in a state of shock, prompting one journalist to note the similarity in people's reactions to nearly fifty years ago when terrorists had flown two jetliners into the World Trade Center in New York, and a third into the Pentagon, killing thousands of people. For several days afterwards, people, both back then, and now, went through the motions of their daily lives as they tried to cope with the fact that something so unthinkable had occurred.   
  
But there was no denying that it hadn't occurred. This wasn't a meteorite with vague possibilities, like that time back in the twentieth century, but an actual recording of an alien language with a declaration of First Contact.  
  
On the net, it was a whole different story. Newsgroups posts blazed like wildfire across the digital landscape, flooding bandwidth with everything from shouts of joy that humanity was not alone in the universe, to conspiracy theories that Misaki had never launched and the message was a stunt by ZIC to garner more funding to everything in between. Threats, arguments, flames and worse zipped back and forth.  
  
And then, one week later, ZIC and S.E.T.I. made two announcements. Firstly, they said that the S.O.R.T.A. had confirmed that the transmission came from the star Altais, a star of medium brightness a hundred point twenty-three light years from Earth and part of the constellation of Draco. This was backed up by the K.I.N.D.A. or Kepler Interstellar Nucleonic Detection Array, which orbited Neptune.  
  
It was confirmed. Humans were not alone in the universe. So that left only question: What do we do now?  
  
The answer came within hours in the form of a peculiar quirk which lies in the psychological makeup of most politicians. This quirk decrees that if an ally or even better, a potential ally is in trouble of any kind, the first step must be to dispatch some kind of military force as quickly as possible and the North American Alliance (N.A.A.) happily led the charge.  
  
The first step was the Robert Goddard, a large scale cargo vessel that traveled between Earth and the very small colony on the Jovian moon Ganymede, was hereby drafted into service and recommissioned as the Sol Alliance Ship Saint Christopher. A move some found hilarious since the Sol Alliance didn't exist except as a set of initials painted onto the Christopher's hull.  
  
Next, at the Martian shipyards, which normally built the mining ships that plied the asteroid belt, all production ceased and the yard's resources were instead directed towards, arming, armoring and stocking the Saint Christopher for an extended search and rescue operation in uncharted, hostile territory.  
  
Meanwhile, on Earth, a call for volunteers went out. More then five thousand men and women in the planet's various armed forces responded and out of those, three hundred were selected.  
  
Those three hundred people would be taken to the Martian deserts and subjected to the most grueling and demanding training the N.A.A. Marine Corps could dream up to turn out the hundred seventy-five men and women who would crew the Saint Christopher.  
  
Meanwhile, after nearly six weeks, Hiroshi emerged from his isolation, only to drag Mirai away from the TV and into his sanctum.  
  
"I don't have time for this, Hiroshi," Mirai complained as he shut the door behind her. "Karou is-"  
  
"Hundreds of Light Years away at the moment," Hiroshi replied. "And there's nothing you, or Moldiver can do for him." He grinned. "At least not until you have this." He handed her a mol-unit. This one was slightly larger then it's predecessors with a crystal that was a good four times bigger then the others. "I admit, its the equivalent of taking a pocket knife when you're going to be hunting dinosaurs, but its the best I could do." Mirai stared at him blankly. "Think, Mirai," Hiroshi said. "You gave Misaki a mol-unit. An extremely powerful mol-unit and he encountered something that made him call home for help."  
  
"Oh," Mirai said, her eyes widening.   
  
Hiroshi sighed. "Now look at this, I've added a few things to the suit and made some other changes." A schematic of the suit appeared on his screen.  
  
"Ewwww!" Mirai said. "What did you do? It looks so...different." Indeed, the suit had lost its neat colors and fashionable appearance. Colored black and dark blue, it was now less fashionable and more functional in an alien sort of way. Still...it would look rather good on her.  
  
"Gave you a fighting chance, I hope. Look, Mirai, I know you, you're going to try everything you can to be on the Saint Christopher when it launches, even if it means abandoning everyone and everything you know and love forever." Mirai flinched guiltily. "You've saved the world a hundred times," Hiroshi continued in a gentler tone. "But in my eyes, you're still my baby sister and..." he trailed off.  
  
Mirai, her eyes brimming with tears, hugged him.  
  
"Mirai," Hiroshi said after a few moments. "We have to tell Mom and Dad. If you're...leaving, they deserve to know why. And about Moldiver."  
  
********  
  
In the end, Mr. and Ms Oroza took the relavation of Mirai's secret life well. If you could call Mrs. Oroza hysterically screaming, calling Mirai a freak, and running from the room "taking it well."  
  
It wasn't a totally unexpected reaction. After all, Mirai and her mother had never gotten along well. A first class Technologist like her husband, Jun Oroza fully expected her children to follow in their footsteps, make a contribution, and become pillars of society. Mirai's decision to chase her dream of becoming an actress had derailed that.  
  
Mirai sighed as she sat on her bed packing what few possessions she couldn't bear to leave behind. If only her mother had been more understanding, if only there had been another way, if only-she looked up at the sound of a knock on the door.  
  
"Come in," she said. The door entered and her father entered the room, shutting the door behind him. "How's Mom?"  
  
"Sleeping, at the moment," her father replied as he sat on the bed. "Mirai, why did you tell us you were Moldiver?"  
  
Over the next hour, Mirai told her father the whole story. How Hiroshi had developed the mol-unit to make himself a superhero and how she had used his equipment to try and make it a little more fashionable, but instead had completely reversed the gender of the suit. From there, she told him of her first battles with Machinegal and his Superdolls, and finished up with the battle to save the Sakigake. "...and in his message, he said Moldiver," she said, winding up her tale. "I think he was asking for me and Hiroshi said he must have encountered something he couldn't handle, even with a mol-unit."  
  
"So what makes you think you can do anything?"  
  
"I can't sit here and do nothing!" Mirai exclaimed. "I have to try and make it to him! I love him, Dad!"  
  
"Now calm down, Mirai," her father said. "I'm not saying you shouldn't do anything, but what about the people in Tokyo? The ones you've spent the last three years protecting? Are you really going to just abandon them?"  
  
Mirai whimpered. She hadn't even thought about her fellow citizens and Moldiver was the only one who could stand up to Machinegal's Superdolls. Her love for Kenchi warred with the promise she had made at the race track three years ago to stand against evil.  
  
"I...I..." Mirai started to hyperventilate.  
  
"Easy," her father said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "All I'm saying is that you need to choose carefully. The consequences of our actions stay with us for the rest of our lives." He patted her shoulder and stood. "You do what you believe is the right thing to do."  
  
"Oh hell..." Mirai said when he was gone.  
  
********  
  
"So you're gonna go, huh?" Hiroshi asked a few days later. He and Mirai were taking a stroll through the Botanical Gardens just enjoying each other's company. While they had never been close, working together as Moldiver had eliminated much of the sibling rivalry between them. The Saint Christopher was due to depart the next day and they were taking the chance to say good-bye.  
  
"Yeah," Mirai said. "If nothing else, I have to keep whatever's going on out there away from Earth and-"  
  
"Hiroshi, my boy," a man's voice said.  
  
"Oh, hello, Professor Amagi," Hiroshi said, turning to bow to the white haired man sitting on a bench. "How are you?  
  
"Quite well, quite well indeed." The old man chuckled. "Who's your friend?"  
  
"You remember my sister Mirai, don't you?"  
  
"Mirai? Oh yes. How are you?"  
  
"I am well, thank you, Mirai said, suppressing a shudder as she bowed. She had never liked the professor. It was the eyebrows. They looked like a pair of slugs hanging from his forehead and he always seemed to be undressing her with his eyes.  
  
"Your soda, Professor," said a blond haired woman as she joined them, handing Amagi a cup.  
  
"Thank you, Isabelle. You remember my young friend Hiroshi, don't you?"  
  
Of course," Isabelle said as she turned to face them. Mirai bit back a gasp. She knew those eyes. The last time she had seen them, they had been staring at her through the visor of a Superdoll helmet as they hovered in space near the sun, with the fate of the Sakigake at stake. But if she was here then that meant-  
  
"And this is his sister Mirai," Amagi continued. Mirai, her face an expression of calm, bowed.  
  
"Hello," she said, her voice squeaking slightly. A great many realizations were clamoring for attention inside her head and none of them were very pretty. "If you would excuse me, I'm not feeling very well all of a sudden."  
  
"Yes, you are a bit pale," Amagi said, peering at her. "Here." he fumbled in his pocket and came up with a small package. "Take these."  
  
"Thank you," Mirai said. "I should go get some water." and she ran off.  
  
********  
  
Mirai sat on the bench as the ropeway made its way between the towers, paying very little attention to the world around her.  
  
Amagi was Machinegal. It all made sense now. Things like Amagi's insistence that his "specially trained team" should be the only one to attempt retrieval of the Yamato and how the Superdolls showed up so conveniently with no signs of resistance from the "team." Everything was falling into place.  
  
'What am I going to do?' she wondered. 'Hiroshi practically worships Amagi. How can I tell him that his mentor is one of the most evil men on the face of the Earth? Oh, Kami-sama, tell me what to do.'  
  
********  
  
All to soon, the time came and Mirai, dressed in her robe and carrying her duffel, exited the house and stood there, the dew dampened grass squishing comfortably between her toes. Sighing, she dropped the duffel to the ground and turned to face her family. Her father and Hiroshi stood on the porch, hands in their pockets. Her mother was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Well, I guess this is good-bye," Hiroshi said. "You be careful out there, Mirai."   
  
Mirai hugged him tightly. "I will, Big Brother."  
  
"Mirai," her father said. "I know you and your mother have never-"  
  
"I can speak for myself, Ken," said a new voice. They turned to look at Jun Oroza. The matriarch of the household stood in the doorway, her face tear streaked. "Mirai, do you really intend to go through with this insanity?"  
  
"It's not insanity, Mother," Mirai said, her tone more confrontational then she intended. "You heard the audio track. I have to keep whatever's happening out there away from Earth. I have a responsibility to-"  
  
"To throw away your life?"  
  
"If it means saving my fellow human beings, then yes, and gladly! Unlike you, I'm not selfish and uncaring!" The words were out before she could stop them. Jun stared at her a moment and then the sound of flesh against flesh was heard.  
  
"You stupid girl," Jun said softly, her eyes ablaze with anger. "After all I've done for you."  
  
Mirai stared at her, hand on her cheek where her mother had slapped her. Half a dozen responses flashing through her mind, half a dozen things to say. But instead, she untied her robe and let it fall before holding up the mol-unit. "METAMORFORCE!"  
  
The crystal flared to life and for Mirai, a bright white light obscured the world.  
  
Like pair of giant hands, she felt as though she was being held and then a warm feeling washed over her and she felt as though she was being detached from her body. Then the HUD of the suit appeared before her eyes and the feeling of weightlessness vanished. For a moment longer, she stared at them and turned on her heel and walked back to her duffel and slinging it over one shoulder, she launched herself into the air and flew off at three times the speed of sound.   
  
As she left the moon behind, Hiroshi's voice crackled in her ear piece and Mirai blinked in surprise before realizing she must have automatically turned it on and put it in when she left her room.  
  
"Mirai, I didn't get the chance to tell you. I made another mol crystal and reformatted the mark one for Captain Tokyo."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"Nah. I thought I'd give it another go."  
  
"Well be careful, Ama-" Moldiver sighed. She couldn't tell him. She just couldn't. "Machinegal is dangerous."  
  
"I will. You too." Then he was gone.  
  
Sighing, Mirai increased her speed as ahead, the red disc that was Mars loomed.  
  
********  
  
In the city of New Plymouth on Mars, the launching of the Saint Christopher was well underway. At the spaceport, standing before the shuttles that would ferry them up to the waiting ship, the hundred and seventy-five men and women stood at parade rest as Dale McHorry, the secretary general of the U.N. addressed them. McHorry was a stout man, with a weak chin and beady eyes.  
  
"And so, it is upon you brave souls that we place the trust of representing the people of Earth. We know not what Misaki found out there, but we do know that you hundred and seventy-five will-"  
  
"Hundred and seventy-six," interrupted a voice. Everyone turned to see a bright red ball of light descend through the dome and settle to the ground. When it faded away, a woman stood there. She was tall and athletic. Her face was covered by a black helmet with a blue visor. Metal horns like the ears of a bat rose up from her brown hair. The black cheek plates came down to just below her jawline where they sprouted antlike mandibles. Her clothing consisted of a high necked spandex top that covered her neck completely under a military style black tunic who's collar came only halfway up her neck. Over that was a dark blue coat that came down to just past her hips and was belted with a black belt at the waist. The sleeves were tucked into three fingered metal gloves who's tips came to clawlike points and three backwards pointing curved spikes ran along the outside.   
  
On her shoulders, twin metal shoulder guards jutted outwards and were from under them, two more curved metal plates held the dark blue cape that came down to mid-calf against her arms without restricting their movements. Her pants were black and tucked into blue metallic boots with shingaurds and tipped with a pair of metal clawlike bladed toes that curved towards each other. She held a duffel bag in one hand and gray metal batlike wings sprouted from her back. "I'm going too."  
  
"Who are you?" a reporter demanded.  
  
"Moldiver."  
  
"Moldiver?!" Professor Amagi sputtered as he leapt to his feet from where he had been seated in the mass of officials on the stage. "But you're Tokyo's protector!"  
  
"Which is exactly why I have to go," Moldiver replied.  
  
"Well that's all well and good," McHorry said. "But you simply can't come in and announce you're-" he broke off as she suddenly vanished and then appeared before him, accompanied by the howling of a sudden gust of wind.  
  
"I'm going," she said flatly. "One way or another."  
  
"Well really," McHorry protested.  
  
"A moment, Mr. Secretary," Amagi said, clomping forward. "Moldiver is a metahuman, after all. Living in Tokyo as I have, I have witnessed firsthand her feats. The Saint Christopher could use her."  
  
"Hm, well, yes. This is highly irregular, you know."  
  
"Of course it is," Amagi said, patting the other man on the shoulder. "Tell you what. You finish the speech while I check Moldiver out on certain emergency procedures." He turned to Moldiver. "If you'll come with me?" He turned and walked off the stage with Moldiver as Isabelle fell into step behind them.  
  
********  
  
As they passed a support beam for the rooftop, Moldiver dropped her bag and grabbing Amagi by his lapels, pinned him against the beam.  
  
"If I even think that someone is trying transport in, I use these," she said to Isabelle, holding up her claws. She turned back to Amagi. "A word of advice, Machinegal." She smiled as his face paled at her use of his alias. "I am coming back. And when I do, we're going to...discuss your attack on Chiba Tower three years ago." She let him fall. "You might want to start building some body armor, Professor, you're going to need it." Scooping up her bag, she walked back across the field to where the crew was preparing to board the shuttles.  
  
"Are you okay, sir?" Isabelle asked as she helped him to his feet.  
  
"I am unharmed, Isabelle," Amagi replied as he took a communicator from his pocket. "Brooke. Since Moldiver is joining the crew, we have an opportunity to put us well beyond her reach." He looked up at the bulk of the Christopher and then back down at the communicator. "You might as well get rid of the Christopher while you're at it. No sense in leaving loose ends lying around." Amagi closed the communicator and glanced at his watch. "What do you say we have some lunch, my dear?"  
  
"Of course, Professor."  
  
********  
  
Bridge of the S.A.S. Saint Christopher Twenty-Five days later, outer edge of the Oort cloud.  
  
Captain Edward Jeffords of the Eurasian Defense Force had spent the past forty years at sea in one fashion or another. Sea of water or sea of space, it made little difference to him. He was a tall, heavily built man, with a square jaw and bushy mustache. Currently he was clad in a fully armed and armored space suit designed for maximum flexibility and protection of the wearer. His helmet sat on the edge of his chair within easy reach.  
  
"Probes away, sir," a technician reported. Jeffords nodded. For years, the theory that the sun was orbited by a small, low-mass companion star named Nemesis had circulated among the more liberal thinking members of the astrophysics community.  
  
As Jeffords understood it, certain studies of mass extinctions on Earth indicated that they occurred every twenty-seven to thirty million years. This, in turn indicated an astronomical cycle, such as an elliptical orbit by a small star, too small, too dim, and too distant to easily detect. As it passed near the Oort cloud, it's gravity would stir it up, sending comets sunward. Some of these comets could hit Earth and trigger extinctions.  
  
The probes, currently racing away from each other would spend the next ten years or so orbiting the system, mapping the Kuniper belt, getting photos of Pluto, taking samples, and searching for any evidence of Nemesis. A powerful source of gravity like Nemesis, it was believed, would leave a lasting impression on the movements of objects within the Oort cloud and Kuniper Belt, as well as be responsible for some of the more outstanding peculiarities of the outer planets. Their instruments and telescopes would search for things like light, solar radiation, temperature fluctuations, odd pulls of gravity and other such indicators. No one really expected the probes to prove the theory, but the data gathered on the Kuniper Belt and Oort cloud would help scientists further probe the origins of the Solar System. Nemesis would simply be a bonus.  
  
He pressed the shipwide intercom switch. "All right, lads and ladies," Jeffords said, draining his coffee and setting it aside. "This is it. Batten the hatches, as they say, we Jump in fifteen minutes."   
  
He turned at the sound of the Marine at the bridge hatch clicking his heels together. Moldiver entered, walking with slow measured steps crossing to the captain's station. Her wings were folded down over her shoulders and strips of fabric hung from the edges, creating the illusion of a second cape over the first one. The dark colors of her costume and dim lights of the bridge (to help the crew concentrate better) gave her an almost supernatural appearance.  
  
Jeffords had dealt with civilians before, and Moldiver was among the better behaved ones. She had spent most of the trip in either the observation lounge, a holdover from when the Christopher was cargo ship, or the library section of the rec room reading. She stayed out of the way, didn't speak to the crew unless they spoke to her first, and had accepted the assignment of her quarters, an unused utility closet at the far end of the habitat deck without question.   
  
Privately, Jeffords was glad to have her along. Anyone who could, as reports said she had in Taiwan a few months ago, toss ocean going ships around like children's toys, or fly into the sun and come back out unscathed like she had during the Sakigake launch, was someone he wanted guarding his back. Especially on a mission like this, filled with unknown risks and dangers. Still, for the chance to stand on an extrasolar planet, he and the men and women under his command were willing to face them.   
  
"Nervous?" he asked her.  
  
"A bit."   
  
"I wouldn't worry too much," the exec said, his approach allowing him to hear Jefford's question. "Doctor Amagi and his team have been working on and improving all phases of the Dimension Jump Engine for the past three years." He handed Jeffords a report for his signature. "The guidance system alone is light years more advanced then the one on the Sakigake."  
  
"I...don't trust Amagi," Moldiver said as Jeffords scrawled his name as best he could with the suit on. "He lied about the Sakigake's readiness to launch."  
  
"And look what happened. Masaki sent us a message. All that fuss over it and it's probably an invitation to some carnival. Those explosions were probably fireworks or something. I bet he's kicking back on a beach out there right now with a trio of beautiful alien babes and soaking up the rays." Jeffords heard Moldiver growl softly at the exec's words. "I can't wait to hit the waves," The exec said before saluting and walking back to his station.  
  
"I don't mean to pry," Jeffords said, "but do you know Misaki?"  
  
"We've...crossed paths," Moldiver replied.  
  
"All sections have reported in, Sir," a technician reported. "All systems show green."  
  
"Good." Jeffords keyed the intercom again. "This is Captain Jeffords. In ten minutes, we will become pioneers, achieving what many people have only dreamed about. Regardless of the ultimate fate of this mission, I want you all to know that I am very proud of each and every one of you and can think of no finer group of people I would rather face the Great Unknown with. Something Gauss said comes to mind; 'Pauca sed matura. Few but excellent.' Thank you." He looked up. "At two minutes, sound red alert."  
  
"Yes, sir." The technician said and then turned back to his console, only to stiffen like he had been shocked with a cattle prod. "Sir! Incoming on an extrasolar vector!"  
  
"What?" Jeffords bellowed.  
  
"Large ship, sir! Radar says its at least three times bigger then us and its closing on an intercept course at four thousand k.p.s.! Spectrograph is reading energy emissions that look like armed energy weapons!"  
  
Jefford's training took over. "Sound Red Alert!" Jeffords barked. As the klaxon wailed, Jeffords grabbed his helmet and crammed it onto his head, hearing the faint clanging noises that were the armored plates slamming down over the bridge portholes. " Arm defense grid! Time to intercept?"  
  
"Five seconds and counting!"  
  
The ship shook as something rumbled by.   
  
"Target has passed us and-Good Lord!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's turning like a damn fighter jet! It shouldn't be able to, not at that size, but it is!"  
  
"Sir! Defense grid and engines just lost power." The ship shook again, and the sound of metal clanking against metal from somewhere overhead was heard.  
  
A security officer handed Jeffords a rifle. He accepted it and glanced over at Moldiver. She too was staring at the ceiling, but with a look of calm detachment on her face. And then the portside wall began to glow a green color. Without a word, the bridge crew took up defensive positions all save Moldiver who stepped forward, blue white incandescent fire forming in the palm of her hand, the glow intensified and then a large green glowing orb phased through the wall and vanished, revealing two women, one of whom drew some sort of gun and pointed it at Moldiver. She was tall and slender, dark-skinned and blonde haired. An eye patch covered her left eye and her face was expressionless. The other was seated in some sort of hovering chair, her teal-green hair braided and falling over one shoulder.  
  
"No wonder I was so glad to leave Earth," the teal-haired one said softly. "You can stand down your men, Captain..."  
  
"Jeffords. Edward Jeffords."  
  
"Kiyone Makibi." 


	2. Getting There Isn't Much Fun

"What do you think?" "Hers are bigger." -Geobreeders  
  
**************  
  
"I said, stand down your men, Captain," Makibi said, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice.  
  
"Not until your friend lowers her gun and our systems come back on-line," Jeffords replied.  
  
"If you think I'm going to let a damn ape dictate terms to me," the woman snarled. "Mihoshi!"  
  
The brown skinned woman pulled the trigger and there was a bright flash of light, followed by a metallic crash. Jeffords looked to see Mihoshi sliding out of a huge dent in the lockers to slump to the floor. Moldiver turned to look at Makibi and Jeffords was startled to see how cold her eyes were behind her visor.  
  
'Shit,' Jeffords thought. 'There goes the fan.'  
  
"Sir!" One of the crew barked. Jeffords looked back at the lockers and was startled to see Mihoshi get back to her feet without using her arms, seemingly flowing into the position as though she was part cat and then she started forward.  
  
"Enough!" rang out another woman's voice as a glowing barrier sprang up between Mihoshi and Moldiver. "Call off your dog, Captain Makibi. Your prejudices have run away with your good sense."  
  
"But-" Makibi started.  
  
"Now!"  
  
"Mihoshi," Makibi snapped and the woman returned to her side.  
  
"Captain Jeffords," the woman's voice said. "On behalf of the Empire of Jurai, please accept my apologies for the Captain's actions."  
  
"Sir. We have power to engines and weapons again," one of the techs said.  
  
"A show of good faith, Captain."  
  
Jeffords hesitated before replying. "Thank you," he said carefully. "And apologies accepted." With that, he lowered his rifle, the rest of the bridge crew following suit a moment later.  
  
"And now, Captain, if you and the one called Moldiver would care to follow Captain Makibi, she will bring you to my chamber where I will explain everything. Oh, and if possible, could you bring with you a pot of coffee?"  
  
"Sir?" asked his exec.  
  
Jeffords frowned for a moment. "Cancel red alert," he said. "But stay sharp." He laid the rifle on the table. "Give us twelve hours to return and if we don't, then assume the worst and do as you see fit."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
********  
  
Growing up, Jeffords had been a fan of science fiction. His bookshelves had groaned under the weight of the works of Asimov, Heinlen, Gange, Bova, Clarke, Biles, Robinson (Both Spider and Kim Stanley), Weber, McSpon, Brin, Temhaire, Bear, Glace, Lackey, Biblat, Chi Nau, and Oleneyzack, to name but a few.  
  
But none of them, even though many had written about the fabled First Contact, had prepared him for the ship he and Moldiver now walked through.  
  
He felt as though he was in an indoor garden. A stream ran along each side of the path and vines topped the walls where they met the ceiling, which seemed to glow with a soft light. The air smelled sweet, and pure. Before them, Makibi and Mihoshi led the way. Beside him on his right, Moldiver walked, her wings now draped over her shoulders. From the lower edge of those wings hung black fabric making it appear that she had a cape or rather, two capes draped about her. Another strip of fabric, which fell from the back of her shoulders, completed the illusion. Her helmet cast the visible part of her face in shadow, which gave her a slightly supernatural look.  
  
Finally, the hall opened out into a huge garden. A waterfall flowed down the right side wall into a stream which flowed across the room and into the opposite wall. On the other side of the stream, in the center of the room was a raised dais, and upon it was the largest tree Jeffords had ever seen in his life, dwarfing even the legendary sequoia redwoods of California. At the base of the dais was a small table and standing next to it was a woman dressed in a blue and scarlet Japanese kimono. Her blue hair was tied back and a slight smile graced her lips. Jeffords felt his stomach clench. She was impossibly beautiful.  
  
"Captain Jeffords, Ms Or-excuse me, Moldiver, welcome aboard the Tsunami. Please, come join me." The woman's voice was soft and musical, but it was most definitely the same one as the one that had rang out on the Christopher's bridge.   
  
"But how-" Jeffords cut himself off as he realized that clear crystal blocks were set in the water, their tops just above the surface. There were enough of them that arranged as they were, one could walk across.  
  
Feeling just a bit foolish, he moved forwards and stopped at the table, laying the extra large thermos of coffee on the table. "In the name of the people of Sol, I greet you in friendship."  
  
The woman laughed. "And how long did your politicians take to come up with that greeting?" She picked up the thermos and poured some coffee into a cup.   
  
"A whole month," Jeffords admitted after a moment.  
  
"Only a month?" She seemed surprised. "For humans, that's very quick." A wolflike creature in a blue robe approached the table carrying a tray with a pitcher and a bowl in one hand, and two stackable chairs in the other. "Thank you, Misai," the woman said. The creature set the tray on the table, placed the chairs at the table, bowed and then left the room. "Please, sit." The woman poured them each a cup of coffee. "Cream and sugar?"  
  
"Cream? Sugar?" Moldiver asked.  
  
"Yes. Former Emperor Azusa's first wife was a Terran and her dowry included a sizable number of cattle. We don't care much for beef, but Terran cream and It's side products, such as cheese and butter have become quite the vice among the more affluent members of the galactic community. The sugar is not quite sugar, but saffronid, a plant remarkably similar to your sugarcane."  
  
"I see..." Jeffords said as he trailed off.  
  
"Oh. Where are my manners?" She stood up and bowed. "Forgive my rudeness. Special Assignment Minister Tsunami, pleased to meet you."  
  
"Tsunami...like the ship?" Moldiver raised her cup to her lips and sipped.  
  
"In a sense. It is complicated. For simplicity's sake, let us say that the three of us are one." She turned her attention to Jeffords. "Your presence here complicates matters, Captain. Our instructions were to pick up Moldiver."  
  
"But the message-"  
  
"Yes. I took the liberty of scanning your mainframe. I will be honest, Captain. There is little you and your men will be able to do against our current...problem.   
  
"How do you know?" Jeffords asked, surging to his feet. "So what if we don't have the level of technology you do. Give us a chance to at least try!"  
  
"Calm yourself, Captain. I am not insulting your people's accomplishments or level of technology. The simple fact is that I am the most powerful ship in the Juraian Navy and I can barely hold my own. In that regard, the most your people will be able to do is die, and be better off for it." Jeffords opened his mouth to protest further when she raised her hand. "Perhaps if I explain our foe." In the center of the table there appeared an image of a white bearded man. One eye was covered with a patch and his beard and hair had been combed into strips which stuck out from his head like a collar. "Doctor Clay. The third most brilliant mind in the known universe." A second image appeared, this one of a creature with a catlike face and rabbit ears. "And this is Ryo-Oki, she's a Cabbit. For years, the only one of her kind. Cabbits, you see, can transform themselves into spaceships many times larger then the form you see before you. In that form, they have access to massive energy reserves, and powerful weapons."  
  
"You speak as though there's more then one now."  
  
"In a manner of speaking," Tsunami said as the images vanished. "Three years ago, as Terrans measure time, Clay obtained a sample of Ryo-Oki's DNA at the request of Lord Daroyn on behalf of the King of the Thaniean Empire."  
  
"But for what purpose?"  
  
"Why else? To-" The floor suddenly and violently heaved, sending them flying onto their backs.  
  
"What the hell?" Jeffords demanded, his sidearm already drawn and primed.  
  
Tsunami got to her feet, staring at the wall. "Damn! We were followed!" The floor lurched again. Then the wall glowed and moments later a man stepped into the room. He was tall, with pointed, elflike ears and catlike features. His skin was a dull gray and hair covered his shoulders, forearms, upper chest, calves and flowed like a mane down his back. A pair of black trunks was his only clothing. But it was his eyes that chilled Jefford's blood. They were completely void of anything except an odd sort of hunger.  
  
Slowly, he looked around the room, and then leapt at Tsunami, only to come up short as Moldiver appeared between them. For a moment he stared and then slashed at her chest. His claws had no effect.  
  
Moldiver's smile was ugly. "My turn." With that, she backhanded the creature across the room. Snarling, he flowed to his feet without using his hands and charged, claws outstretched, howling like a banshee.  
  
Moldiver sidestepped and spun, her claws leaving a diagonal slash across his back, sending tufts of hair to the floor. The creature howled again and leapt at her, both fighters tumbling to the floor, grappling for leverage.  
  
Without thinking, Jeffords lined up his shot and fired three times. The polysteel-ceramic darts covered the ten yards to the creature at 200kps and shattered against his hide.  
  
The creature looked up.  
  
And got his attention.  
  
"Shit," Jeffords swore and emptied his entire clip at it's face, picking targets at random. The creature howled as one dart found it's eye, popping it. Swearing under his breath, Jeffords reached for his spare clip.  
  
Moldiver slammed her claws into the other eye and threw the creature off, slamming him into the floor. And then, without letting go, slammed his head into the deck plates repeatedly. He fell still after about the twentieth time, but Moldiver continued to beat his head against the floor for a good two minutes before finally stopping and falling into a sitting position on the deck, breathing hard.  
  
"What-" the creature twitched and Jeffords reflexively squeezed off several shots at it's head. "What is that?"  
  
"That?" Tsunami asked, moving to stand next to him, one hand pressed to her left hip. "That, Captain, is why you and your crew would be better off dying. That is that the Thaniens do to their prisoners." Some more of the wolflike creatures came in and picking up the body then left. "I believe you Terrans have a saying? Something about a fate worse then death?"  
  
"She was one, wasn't she?" Moldiver burst out. "Mihoshi."  
  
"Yes," Tsunami said. "We restored her as best we could, but there are some remnants. I was not choosing my words lightly when I ordered Makibi to call off her dog." She looked pensive for a moment. "And I have just been left with no choice. Return to your ship, Tsunami is damaged and I must rest."  
  
Jeffords and Moldiver exchanged looks.  
  
"But isn't there anything we-" Moldiver started to say and was cut off Tsunami's raised hand.  
  
"I must rest. Go." Moldiver started to protest more but stopped when Jeffords grabbed her arm and shook his head. So instead she bowed, her wings folding about her and the strips of fabric falling back into place as she straightened. Turning, they walked back across the room to where a man carrying a twisted wooden staff was waiting.  
  
As they left, Jeffords looked back. Tsunami was nowhere to be seen and the tree was pulsing softly with a golden inner light.  
  
********  
  
Rather then leading them back to the airlock that they had first entered from, their guide instead led them to a hanger bay where the Saint Christopher rested on some sort of gridwork. By the ship's hatch, no less then ten Marines waited in full armor, rifles in hand. They were nervously eyeing the two women who stood next to the nearest wall. Like their guide, both held wooden staffs.   
  
This of course, was a two question problem. Question one; why were they there? The answer was simple. The ten Marines were simply a way to say. "You're not gonna get away with any funny business." Such a display was countered with an equal display by the other party to say; "Yeah? Well neither are you."  
  
The second question was a bit more troubling. Were there only two because that's all that could be spared, or worse, because that's all that was needed?  
  
Returning the salutes of the Marines, Jeffords boarded the Christopher and called a meeting of the senior officers.  
  
********  
  
"...And then we came here," Jeffords finished. "I'm still not sure how that creature got on board. Did we pick up anything?"  
  
"Aye, sir. A radar blip rushed the Tsunami's starboard side. Approximately ninety seconds later, we were drawn inside the Tsunami and before the bay doors closed, our instruments recorded a massive surge of some kind of electromagnetic radiation similar but far more powerful then the radiation observed when the Tsunami docked with us. I believe that powerful radiation was a sign of the Tsunami's...stardrive activating."  
  
"So we're traveling interstellar right now?" Jeffords asked.  
  
"That would be a reasonable assumption, sir."  
  
"But where are we traveling too?"   
  
"The Juraian's home system, or as we refer to it, Altais. Apologies were offered on behalf of the Empire of Jurai and Misaki's message came from Altais. It seems logical that the two are one and the same."  
  
"But hold on. Misaki's message had some sort of battle going on in the background. Why would we be heading to a battle zone? Hell, if this ship is the only thing in their fleet that can stand up to these things, why is it even playing taxi service?"  
  
"Perhaps these Thaniens attack in a certain pattern with so much time between attacks. This may be one of those times."  
  
"Or that they need Moldiver so badly that they sent the one ship that could bring her back alive, losses or no," Jeffords said. "We need more information."  
  
"We can't collect that until we reach the battle zone, sir."  
  
"I know," Jeffords replied.  
  
********  
  
Jeffords was in a foul mood.  
  
According to the Christopher's Chronometer, three days had passed since the meeting with Tsunami. Three days and not a peep, despite repeated messages sent through the guards for an audience. To keep the chance of violence resulting from misunderstandings down, the Marines standing guard at the hatch had been reduced to two and were rotated often to prevent boredom from sneaking in. Meanwhile, the same two women were still standing by interior bay doors. Not once had they been relieved. Either the Juraians had a different measurement of time, didn't need to sleep, or the theory that they were all that could be spared was true. If that was the case, their discipline and endurance was incredible.  
  
Sighing, he threw back the covers and got up. Perhaps some reading would help. Picking up his favorite book, he headed down to the rec hall.  
  
As the hatch slid open, he was greeted with darkness. Reaching for the light switch, he stopped when he realized that there was a subtle blue glow coming from the far side of the room. As his eyes became accustomed to the darkness he realized that the blue glow was that of a hologram of Misaki and Moldiver, her wings in what he had come to think of as "cape mode" was studying it. A moment later, he realized that the hologram was being emitted from her open palm.  
  
Softly, he cleared his throat and her head turned slightly in response.  
  
"I'm sorry," Jeffords said quietly. "Am I interrupting?"  
  
"No." She closed her hand, and the hologram vanished, plunging the room into complete darkness. "I was simply thinking."  
  
"May I ask what about?" Jeffords asked as he turned on the lights, wincing at the sudden brightness.  
  
For a moment, it seemed as though she would say nothing, and then she walked across the room to stand before a painting of the Earth rising over the moon. "Have you ever loved, Captain? A love so deep, so powerful, that you go against everything that you believed in?"  
  
Jeffords gave it some thought. "Once. But that was a long time ago. The sea is all I need now."  
  
Moldiver was silent for a moment and then her shoulders sagged. "I am a traitor, Captain Jeffords. For the sake of love, I abandoned Tokyo and it's people to come with you, and given the chance to change it, I would do so again in a heartbeat. But that does not change what I am. Or my selfishness."  
  
Jeffords decided to play a hunch. "It's not selfish to love. But only if Misaki loves you back."   
  
She spun. "How-No...no, it doesn't matter...during the Sakigake's launch, when I was engaged in a battle to the death, I got the idea to go inside the sun. Over the radio, Misaki pleaded with me not to do it. Not to give up my life. He even was willing to give up his dream for me. I went in anyway and there, I saw..." she took a deep breath. "Suffice to say, I survived and emerged victorious. Misaki got his dream and I returned to Earth to wait. He should have been back in three weeks. It's been three years." She whirled to face him. Her eyes once again as cold as they had been on the bridge during the argument with Makibi. "Three years, Captain Jeffords. Three years and all I've had to keep me going is one brief moment in his arms right before the Sakigake jumped." She strode forward and was almost to the door when Jeffords found his voice.  
  
"Wait. The sun..."  
  
She stopped. "What about it?"  
  
"You were inside it. What did you see?"  
  
She turned and looked at him for a moment before replying. "Eternity."  
  
********  
  
Jeffords signed off on the last of the morning's paperwork and passed it to his yeoman before leaning back in his chair. Five days. Five days inside the Tsunami's hold. The crew was starting to get edgy and the Marines had already broken up a couple of fights. If they didn't get to wherever the hell they were going soon, there was no telling what might happen.  
  
At that moment, there was a soft chime and a holo of Tsunami formed next to him.  
  
"Greetings, Captain."  
  
"Minister," Jeffords responded, his words icy cold.  
  
"You have every right to be angry, Captain. My assistant had been keeping your requests from me and I only just now found out about it." Her expression hardened. "I assure you, the matter has been dealt with."  
  
"I see," Jeffords said, but despite his best effort, his tone was still cold.  
  
Tsunami sighed and then brightened. "I thought you might like to see our approach."  
  
"We've arrived?" the Exec asked.  
  
"Yes. We'd have been here sooner, but the...attack damaged one of my thrusters. We have, as you would say, limped back home...such as it is." She gestured and an image formed at the front of the bridge. There in space was a metal triangle, each corner a giant sphere from which bristled tiny cylinders. Connecting the spheres were thin cylinders and tiny lights moved over it's surface with still more lights surrounding it.   
  
"What is it?" Jeffords asked.  
  
"The Kobayashi Maru," Tsunami replied. "Silly I know, but her builder liked the name."  
  
"Oh? Who built her?"  
  
"I did!" exclaimed a high-pitched voice. Jeffords spun. Standing behind him was a young girl, no more then twelve. Her bright red hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore some kind of suit/robe. The pupils of her eyes were red and literally shining with glee. "Is that a fifteen gigaherz chip in there?" She dashed to the operations console.  
  
"Um..."   
  
"Captain, may I introduce Professor Washu of the-"  
  
"But you can call me Little Washu," the girl called from where she was perched on the engineering console, her head inside it. "They called me Washu-chan when I was on Earth, that was ni-wow! Pure silicon! I thought Terrans would be using protein silicon mixes by now."  
  
"Do not judge her by appearance, Captain," Tsunami said softly. "Professor Washu is easily the greatest mind in the universe."  
  
"I suppose it would be too much to expect that she's impressed by the Christopher's technology," Jeffords sighed.  
  
"Only Zero degree cooling system? You got this far on that?" Washu shook her head. "Just when I hoped you humans might surprise me-Ack!" Washu suddenly shot into the air and away from the console. The air blurred and then resolved into Moldiver, who had Washu by the collar of her blouse. "Put me down, you big bully!" Washu snapped, wriggling her fingers. Moldiver released her.  
  
"What the?" Moldiver asked, staring at her hand.  
  
"I just sent a fake message to the nerves in your hand, which triggered the muscles and caused you to let me go." The diminutive scientist's expression became pugnacious and she took out a small remote. "Of course that was just for starters and-"  
  
"Professor Washu, please. They are guests. Tenchi would not be happy with you if you turned her into a Kappa."  
  
"But she-"  
  
"I'm sorry," Moldiver said bowing.  
  
Washu appeared to be thinking for a moment. "Oh very well. You're forgiven." With that, she did a little skip dance and then vanished.  
  
"Again, Captain, my apologies. Professor Washu, as of late, has found it amusing to suit her behavior to her outward appearance." Tsunami pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly far older then she appeared, shoulders slumped under some immense weight. "It occasionally creates difficulties."  
  
"I would imagine so," Jeffords replied diplomatically, turning his attention back to the view screen more to give Tsunami time to recover then out of curiosity, and was startled to see that the Maru had seemingly grown in size and the lights were now tiny ships.  
  
"For what it's worth, Captain, we are still two of your astronomical units away. Twice the distance from Earth to the sun, I believe. For an idea of scale, each of those spheres is roughly twice the size of your planet Jupiter. The cylinder's connecting them are roughly three times the diameter of Earth. Many of those lights you see are in fact massive battleships and carriers. Quite a few larger then me."  
  
"And that little girl built it?"  
  
"Many things, Captain Jeffords, are not what they seem out here. Professor Washu, for example, is twenty thousand years old. I will meet you when we dock with the Maru in a few hours and escort you directly to the Emperor's chambers. He has expressed an interest in meeting you." With that, she vanished, leaving a suddenly very weary captain.   
  
"I just had to want to go meet aliens," he muttered.  
  
********  
  
Jeffords took one last look at his party and nodded. After much debate among the senior officers, it was decided that the party should consist of himself, the science officer, Moldiver and four marines.  
  
All of them, with the exception of Moldiver, were in their dress uniforms. Jeffords and the science officer in their dress whites, the Marines in red and gold. He had the uncomfortable feeling that they were wearing loincloths to a royal wedding, but it couldn't be helped.  
  
"All right," Jeffords huffed. "Remember, we're diplomats here. Think twice before you speak and then think again. We don't want to piss anyone off." A chorus of "yes, sir's" was the response.  
  
Exiting the Christopher, they found that the two guards were gone and Tsunami was standing there dressed in series of layered robes, hands tucked into her sleeves. There was an odd air about her. She seemed almost...jumpy.  
  
"Ah Captain. Very impressive. Shall we?" She turned and led the way through the corridors. "You'll excuse my nervousness, Captain," she said after a few minutes. "Part of me was left behind when I went to Sol and I'm not quite myself without her. To be this close..."  
  
"I quite understand." Jeffords did not, in fact understand, but he had spent much of his Naval career around diplomats and politicians. It was a useful phrase when being bored with some overly technical weapons or political situation explanation. Or in the case of Tsunami, walking on an emotional powder keg.  
  
A few minutes later, as they approached an archway, Tsunami stopped, turning to face them. "I suggest you all brace yourselves. Juraians favor a slightly higher gravity then what you're used too. It can be a little disconcerting. Also, when you meet the Emperor, you'll be expected to kneel on one knee and perform the First Gesture of Respect for the Higher Ranks.   
  
Fortunately, the Emperor is more cosmopolitan then his court when it comes to Terrans and he will be satisfied with a simple bow. When you bow, keep your hands at your sides, palms pressed against your thighs and bend at the waist at a nintey degree or greater angle. I cannot stress this enough. Without even this minuscule gesture of respect, the court will literally tear you to shreds right then and there. The Emperor is fanatically respected at the moment and those parasites will go to any lengths to demonstrate their loyalty." She let that sink in for a moment. "Currently, the Imperial Court is in formal session which requires the use of certain customs. As I announce your names, step forward and bow as I told you. Make no sudden moves, do not speak, even if spoken to, and make no eye contact with the Emperor or his wives."  
  
The Terrans nodded and Tsunami led the way into through the archway. The shift in gravity was immediately noticeable and the crew staggered a bit before managing to adjust and continue walking, albeit with a great deal more effort. Glancing over at Moldiver, who was at his side, he noticed that her face seemed slightly red with effort. Odd for someone who not only possessed super-strength but could defy gravity at...will? He looked down and saw that her feet were just over the floor, she was literally walking on air. That wasn't effort on her face he realized, but embarrassment that she could fly and they couldn't.  
  
For some reason, that made him feel better.  
  
********  
  
The throne room was magnificent. Massive wood doors opened onto a palatial room, divided in half by a wide creek bridged with stepping stones. On each side, a vast half circle shaped lake and directly ahead, another half circle dais rising out of the water. Twin waterfalls emptied into channels which spilled down the sides of the dais into the lakes. Men and women lined their side of the creek in two groups one on each side, each group two rows deep.   
  
On the dais was a woman who was Tsunami's twin in appearance. Unlike Tsunami, who's hair was tied back, the other woman's hair was a pair of ponytails, extending down from a ball of hair on each side of her head, which was faced with a circle of what appeared to be gold, which framed a large red jewel.  
  
Behind her an elderly white haired man and much younger man, his long black hair tied back, stood side by side. Both were dressed in plain white Shinto priest's robes and wore blank expressions. It took Jeffords a moment to realized that the younger man was in fact Masaki. A strangled gasp from his right proclaimed that Moldiver had realized it too. On the dais, Masaki locked eyes with Moldiver, his eyes widened, and then he smiled slightly and returned his attention to them all, his expression becoming blank. Moldiver let out a happy sigh and then fell silent.  
  
Rising up from the dais, four steps led to a platform. On each side of the platform was a throne. Seated in the one to Jefford's right, a young woman sat. Her purple hair was tied into twin ponytails and her expression was serious, her eyes bright and very alert. Her posture was very formal, forearms on the armrests, fingers loosely spread on their surface.  
  
On the left hand throne, another woman lounged, her blue hair standing up in large spikes. She had one leg thrown over the a chair arm, one arm rested on the other, which in turn held up her head while she munched on some kind of fruit. Her expression was bored and she seemed to be paying them only a cursory interest. Between their thrones, three stairs climbed to an even higher platform where a man who had to be the Emperor sat.  
  
Tsunami gestured them to stop, distracting Jeffords before he could get more then a momentary glance of the Emperor, and then continued onwards to the very edge of their platform. "Special Assignment Minister Tsunami," she said, then, she knelt, her arms out at a ninety degree angle, her head bowed. "I have completed the task set before me, Your Highness." Then she brought her hands together as though praying, the tips of her middle fingers touching her chin. Then, keeping her fingertips together, she moved her palms apart until they were pointed at the floor and then slowly, moved them back to their starting position. Then she rose, lowering her arms to her side, keeping them perfectly vertical, timing the movement so perfectly, that she was standing straight at the exact same time as her hands stopped their movement.  
  
The white haired man stepped forward. "It is the Emperor's wish that you tell us who you have brought before him," he said in ringing tones. "To confirm that you completed your task. You were instructed to bring back only one, yet we see seven."  
  
"The message was disrupted," Tsunami replied. "Only fragments, as I explained in my report, were received. The Terrans have sent aid. May I present Captain Jeffords of the Sol Alliance Ship Saint Christopher and Terran Ambassador." Jeffords stepped forward and bowed as he was instructed. "The woman known as Moldiver." Moldiver did the same. "Science Officer Major Alexander Tarn, Ph.D. and MD." Another bow. "And Master Sergeant Kleppe, First Sergeant Yonge, and Corporals Sommer and Oliver."  
  
"No!" One of the courtiers stepped forward. "He has insulted the Emperor," he yelled, pointing a finger at one of the Marines. "He bowed at a eighty-nine degree angle!"  
  
The old man raised an eyebrow and the green haired empress sat up. The courtiers all edged away from their fellow.  
  
"Lord Collal," the old man began, "your patriotism is appreciated but it is the Emperor's wi-"  
  
"I will not stand by and watch my Lord be insulted!" The courtier yelled and pulled a sword handle. There was a flash of light and then a long glowing blade sprouted from the handle.   
  
"Bloody hell," one of the soldiers exclaimed. "Man's got a friggin lightsaber!"  
  
"For the honor of Jurai!" the courtier yelled and then charged. 


	3. Blame Science

The release of emotion is what keeps us healthy. Emotionally healthy." "That may be, Doctor. However, I have noted that the healthy release of emotion is frequently unhealthy for those closest to you." -- McCoy and Spock, "Plato's Stepchildren", stardate 5784.3  
  
**************  
  
For Jeffords, time had slowed down. The Courtier charged, the Marines' hands moved towards their sidearms. A dozen curses flashed through Jeffords mind and then Moldiver was there, her hand closing around the courtier's wrist, jerking him off his feet as time returned to normal. The courtier, unprepared for the sudden stop, lost his grip, his sword flying out of his hand and bouncing and sliding across the platform.  
  
"How dare you?" The Courtier demanded, drawing himself up in self-important righteousness and then staggering as Moldiver pushed him backwards several steps. "Honor demands that I avenge the insult to my Lord!"  
  
As one of the Marines raised his sidearm, Jeffords grabbed the man's arm. "No."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I want to see how she handles this."  
  
Collal assumed a fighting stance while Moldiver stood there. "YAAAAHHHHH!" he shouted, charging forward.  
  
Moldiver stuck out her hand, palm forward, which Collal ran into. Moving with his momentum, she moved her hand back until he stopped and then shoved forward, sending him stumbling backwards and into the lake.  
  
Turning back to the dais, Jeffords saw that the Emperor was descending the steps, and crossing the creek, his wives behind him. His attention distracted by Tsunami's greeting, Jeffords renewed his observations. The emperor was roughly six feet in height. Long tied back black hair and dark eyes. He wore no visible ornamentation of his rank save a sword hilt fastened to his belt. Unlike the others, who had a slightly alien air about them, the Emperor came across as regular guy. The sort who would give you the shirt off his back if it meant helping you out.  
  
Three feet away from the Terrans, the Emperor stopped and looked at Tsunami.  
  
"Captain Jeffords, His Royal Highness, Lord of the Stars, Chief Protector of the Most Holy Trees of Jurai and Ruler of the Juraian Empire, Emperor Tenchi Masaki," Tsunami said.  
  
The Emperor bowed to Jeffords as Jeffords had bowed to him. The courtiers gasped and muttered discussions sprang up among them.  
  
"The Emperor greets the Ambassador as an equal," the old man said. "The Ambassador and his party are invited to join his Highness for dinner."  
  
"The Ambassador accepts on behalf of his party," Tsunami responded.  
  
Turning, the Emperor made his way back up the steps and towards the right hand waterfall. When the two guards had followed, and the dais was empty, Tsunami gestured and they followed her up the stairs across the dais, behind the right hand waterfall, through a small doorway and into a long, wide hallway. Waiting for them was the Emperor, his wives, Tsunami's twin, and Misaki.  
  
"I'm sorry to make you go through all that, Captain Jeffords," the Emperor said holding out his hand, which Jeffords, after a moment, took. The Emperor, he noted, had a good, firm handshake. "The formalities of the imperial court require that I can't speak and that the Master of Court," he indicated the white-haired man, "must speak for me. It seems a bit silly I know but-"  
  
"But we do it anyway," the purple haired Empress said, grabbing her husband's arm. "As will succeeding generations. The formalities are what keep Jurai at the top of the-"  
  
"Aw, c'mon, Ayeka," the green haired Empress said, giving the other woman a knowing grin as she grabbed his other arm. "You know you make us follow those rules cause you get off on it. Remember when we worked the carrot fields?"  
  
"Um girls?" The Emperor asked.  
  
"Why-I never-" Aykea sputtered, but she had a grin on her face. "I don't know why Tenchi married you in the first place, you horrible beast!"  
  
"Um," the Emperor looked back and forth between the women. "You girls didn't really leave me a choice in the matter."  
  
"Oh yeah," the green haired one said, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. Her counterpart took the opportunity to kiss their husband.  
  
"Captain," the Emperor said, "may I present the loves of my life." He indicated the purple-haired woman. "Ayeka."  
  
Ayeka half-bowed. "A pleasure." She smiled in a friendly fashion. "I sincerely hope that your visit to our empire is the first of many and that those succeeding visits come under the auspices of peace and friendship, rather then this horrible war."  
  
"And," the emperor indicated the other woman. "Ryoko."  
  
Ryoko, Ryoko...  
  
The room was filled to practically bursting, scientists from virtually every country on earth and their security details.   
  
Ryoko gave a half-wave with two fingers. "Yo."  
  
Before them, a clear barrier looking into a small, furnished room. It's sole occupant, a tall, dark-haired woman dressed in some sort of odd Japanese kimono-robe hybrid. Only the Americans seemed to know anything about her and what little they had provided raised many questions and very few answers.  
  
"You're a very lucky man, Your Highness," Jeffords said.  
  
The woman smiled as she stood on the other side of the clear barrier, swaying slowly from side to side as she sang in a child's voice. "Ryoko, Ryoko, greatest crook ever known, catching her would bring much reknown. Mighty Warrior, left he did, took me and his ship when he made the trip." She pressed herself against the barrier. "The ship did crash, frozen I was, Ryoko caught and frozen too. The warrior stayed, retired he did, no more fighting ever again. Became a priest, ruled the shrine, forgot about me, but I won't whine. Grandson left, became a king, married the princess, wed the crook, putting the warrior off the hook." Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed, dissappating into motes of fading light, laughing the entire time.  
  
"...is, isn't he?" Ryoko was saying as the last echos of laughter faded back into Jefford's memory. She kissed the Emperor.  
  
The Emperor cleared his throat and indicated the man Jeffords and his crew had traveled hundreds of light years to see. "I believe you already know Lord Misaki."   
  
"'Lord' Misaki?" Moldiver repeated.  
  
Misaki turned red. "It turns out that my Grandfather Tarou is His Highness's cousin on his Father's side."  
  
"And it would not do for a relative of the Emperor to have an inferior rank," Ayeka said.   
  
The Emperor indicated the old man, who was removing some kind of device from his ear. "My Grandfather and Master of Court, Yosho, and my sister in law, Sasami, who serves as my chief advisor." He indicated the blue haired woman standing face to face with Tsunami and both women patently ignoring all others.  
  
"Hello, Tsunami," Sasami said.  
  
"Hello, Sasami," Tsunami replied.  
  
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"  
  
"Yes, it has."  
  
"Shall we?"  
  
"I see no reason why not." With that, the pair joined hands. Almost instantly, a near-blinding golden light sprang up around them and Jeffords found himself half-expecting to hear a heavenly chorus singing. As it was, he could have sworn the golden sparkles briefly formed the image of a tree.   
  
The light grew brighter and then faded. Where there had been two women, there was now one. She was tall, her blue and scarlet kimono/robe hinting at an almost amazonian physique under the cloth. Her blue hair was tied back into twin ponytails and three bangs hung over her forehead, the almost childish style constrasting sharply to the rest of her. Her posture was rigid, the word soldier written all over her, figuratively speaking.  
  
"Sanumi," Ayeka said. "It is good to see you."  
  
"As it is to see thee, your Highness," Sanumi replied. "My Lord," she bowed to the Emperor, hands inside her sleeves.  
  
Ayeka turned to the Terrans. "Captain Jeffords, may I introduce the Battleship Tsunami, or as she is more commonly known, Sanumi."  
  
"Hey, if the reunion's over, can we get on with the grub? I'm starving!" Ryoko said.  
  
"Of course, My Lady," Sanumi said, turning and leading the way down the hall.  
  
"Merged personalities, political fanatics, Aliens who speak accentless English," Tarn said softly as they started walking. Tarn was a fellow member of the Eurasian Defense Force. "I'm starting to wonder how much of what we learned from Eve was in fact insane ravings."  
  
"Eve?" Jeffords stared at him. "You were at-" he broke off as they turned a corner and entered a dining hall. Before them a vertiable feast was set out for them to enjoy.  
  
"Have a seat, Captain, there will be time enough to talk after the meal."  
  
**************  
  
With a final flourish, the last of the meal was set aside. Though delicious, Juraian food seemed to be heavily vegetarian, with very little meat. On the other hand, no one joined the Royal Navy looking for same old boring things.  
  
"Captain Jeffords," Ayeka said, setting her hands on the table, "as I'm sure you've been told, a ship full of Terran Soldiers was not what Tsunami expected to find when she arrived in Sol. The garbled message is, as Tsunami explained, to blame, and while we are grateful for the offer of help, your craft is obviously not a warship, despite the extensive refitting. Exactly what sort of aid are you here to provide?"  
  
"Whatever you need," Jeffords replied. "My orders are to assist you in whatever capacity we can. Military or otherwise. My holds are filled with everything from medical supplies to farming equipment to tactical nukes."  
  
"The nuclear warheads would provide a much needed assist. While able to shrug off the radiation and heat in their ship form, they be greatly vulnerable while in their alternate form," Sanumi said. "Killithain are drawn to planets when requiring rest. Detonating the warheads in the asmotsphere could weaken them during initial exposure enough that our battleships could best them. If the Tsunami or large numbers of craft need not be present at each encounter, we perchance might win this war. Our choices be limited."  
  
"And render the planets inhospitable," the Emperor said distantly. "I don't care what Dad said. Nuclear is not the future."  
  
"I must agree with Sanumi," Ayeka said. "We do not have very many alternative options. This system is among the last bastions of civilization in the galaxy and more of those fall each day. If we do not act fast, the Thaniens and their Killithain slaves will soon have the numbers to overwhelm even the Maru's considerable defenses." Her eyes began to blaze with anger. "Look how easily they broke Jurai and we fled like scared dogs." She rose to her feet. "The galaxy is laughing at us. Us! We who-"  
  
"Oh sit down," Ryoko said, grabbing the other Empress by the sleeve and yanking her down. "Have some Sake and lay off the melodrama."  
  
"Killithain?" Tarn asked. The science officer leaned forward with intense interest. "What, exactly, are these Killithain?"  
  
"Killithain is what we call the prisoners of the Thaniens," Yosho said. "Killithain are mindless beasts, driven to do their masters bidding. They have no real independent will and linked by some sort of subspace telepathy. They are, in effect, living weapons." He gave them a sardonic smile. "An interesting life, no? The energies wielded in their ship form let them match all but the Tsunami blow for blow. To destroy even one requires a blitz of all weapons from at least ten dreadnoughts or equivalent. As they tend to attack in groups of six, it makes fighting them difficult and why we have been forced back into one system. It's all we can hold. Washu has seeded the system with some rather...specialized defenses which for now has held them back as it costs them in numbers. But soon they will have enough Killithains that they can attack without worrying about such...mere trifles."  
  
Mirai stared at the table. In her career as Moldiver, Mirai had developed a sort of sixth sense that let her know when something was off. And it was blaring right now.  
  
"Lady Moldiver? Lady Moldiver!" Mirai looked up to see Sanumi looking at her.  
  
"Huh?" she asked and then swore silently. 'Nice one, hero," she thought. 'Real superheroic sounding.' She shifted her mental train of thought to full Moldiver mode, which she hadn't really been in for the past month.  
  
"You seem distant, and have not touched thy food. Is something wrong?" Sanumi asked.  
  
"No...no. Just tired I suppose," Moldiver replied. "I've been living in this suit since we left Sol." It was close enough to the truth. When wearing the suit, Mirai had discovered that she needed no food or sleep. She had just as much energy when she took the suit off as she did when it she put it on.  
  
"And you have no wish to risk compromise of thy true identity either," Sanumi said with a smile. "Lord Misaki, wilt thou allow her to use thy quarters to rest?"  
  
"Me?" Misaki asked.  
  
"I cannot leave this meeting and thou are the only other one besides myself in whose presence she may remove her guise without fear of discovery."  
  
"You know who I am?" Moldiver asked.   
  
Jeffords grimaced as he remembered Tsunami's near slip when they had met her for the first time. Finding out who Moldiver was and where she got her powers was high on the list of last minute orders that he had received as the Christopher had left Martian orbit.  
  
"Aye," Sanumi said, replying to Moldiver's question. "It is long been a custom to avoid open contact with planets who have not yet developed the ability to travel between the stars. The Sakigake is a step, and little more as your own people have admitted. But our need was great, and Misaki did entrust me with your true name ere I left for Sol. That name, Lady Moldiver, I promise you, will never pass my lips without thy leave."  
  
"Er..." Moldiver said. She too, was remembering Tsunami's near slip.  
  
"You do not have to worry, Ms Moldiver," Ayeka said with a smile. "To be entrusted with a secret is considered an honor of the highest caliber among Juraians. You may rest assured that it is safe with her."  
  
Tarn looked interested. "Does it matter what the secret is?"  
  
"No," Ayeka replied. "It is said among Juraians that the measure of a person can be gauged by how many secrets they have been entrusted with."  
  
"But how did such a custom come about?" Tarn asked. "Placing so much value on secrets could eventually tear the society apart."  
  
"It has to do with the origins of the Juraian Empire," Yosho said. "Our earliest records tell us that before the Empire, we Jurai were pirates, dividing space into territories and warring viciously with each other. How that came to be has been lost to time. Anything beyond some thirty-thousand years ago is legends, stories, hints, myths and half-truths. However, as some of those myths and stories bear strong coincidence to each other and to the legends, stories and myths of other races, historians believe that some great cataclysm struck the galaxy some thirty-five thousand years ago, plunging it into what's we refer to as the Great Blackout." Yosho moved his head. causing the lights reflecting off his glasses. "For five thousand years, the races of the Galaxy struggled to survive this terrible event, record keeping forgotten. We may never know what caused this terrible event, but it's agreed that it must never be allowed to happen again. In this, we are united...albeit barely. But that will change once this war is over, I promise you."  
  
"Indeed it will," Ayeka said. "When the Thaniens first struck, there was much bickering about what to do, procedures distracting from taking action, racial ego causing stonewalling, and all the while, the Thaniens were using the Killithain to chip away at our defenses and we didn't realize it until it was to late. Now look at us." Ayeka's hand tightened around her glass, threatening to shatter it until Ryoko leaned across the Emperor and grabbed her wrist, squeezing until Ayeka relaxed her grip.  
  
"Interesting," Tarn mused. "And there is no clue as to what this Cataclysm was?"  
  
"None," Yosho said. "There are stories of a deep-space exploration ship in whose data banks and holds lie records of the Cataclysm, what it was, and life before it. For some reason, the crew set its computers to endlessly jump the ship between stars, never getting close to any star, always jumping away whenever anyone gets near it. Then they all committed suicide. All but one, a scientist who fled the ship while the others were killing themselves, taking an escape pod and ending up on the Homeworld of the Mari, where the story of this ship was first heard. No one knows what race built the ship, and bizzarely, the Mari have no stories of strangers from the stars."  
  
To this day, traders and explorers have claimed to see this ghost ship here and there along the edges of civilization, always vanishing into hyperspace before they can get close enough to confirm their sighting or have any more evidence of it's existence outside of sensor ghosts."  
  
"A Flying Dutchman," Jeffords said.  
  
"The ship is irrelevant," Sanumi said. "We have no time to be chasing stories. The Thaniens and their slaves are real and a course of action must be decided. I stand by mine proposal of using the Terran weapons to contaminate asmotspheres and weaken the Killithain."  
  
"And why stop there?" the Emperor said. "Why don't we take it one step further and contaminate some of the other holdouts, just to keep them 'safe'?"  
  
"A small price to pay," Sanumi said. "Perhaps, My Lord, if you would set aside such sentimentality-"  
  
"How dare you speak to your Emperor like that!" Ayeka demanded, surging to her feet. "Show some respect!"  
  
"I have," Sanumi said coldly. "But let us be clear, Your Highness. My allegiance is to the Empire, not the Royal Family. So long as the Empire survives, I will take any course of action I see fit."  
  
"Tenchi is the Empire!" Ayeka shouted, slamming her hands down on the table. "It is well within his rights to decide the course of action to take and I have every confidence in him to make the right choice. And furthermore, since he is the Empire, you, like the rest of us, will comply with his decision and do so without question!"  
  
Sanumi raised an eyebrow. "But what if," she said with a smirk. "That decision was to leave you and Ryoko?"  
  
"Why you-" Ayeka leaned forward only to stop as a glowing beam sprang forth from Ryoko's palm to bar the way.  
  
"That would be his problem," Ryoko said. "Arguing isn't going to solve anything, ladies," she continued, eyes narrowing slightly. "Why don't we call it a day?"  
  
"I agree," Yosho said. "Let us adjourn for the evening and resume tomorrow when we are fresh. Is that acceptable, Captain?"  
  
"Of course," Jeffords replied. "Mol-" He broke off. Misaki and Moldiver were gone, and the door to the room was sliding shut.  
  
"Jeez," said one of the Marines.  
  
**************  
  
Imperial Quarters  
  
By almost any standard, the temperature in the Imperial Quarters was nearly unbearably warm. For the two women who lived there, it had taken some getting used to. Tenchi Masaki, however, found the heat comforting and a shield against things he didn't want to think about as he stared out the window at the blackness of space. In the distance, the single star that the Maru orbited. From here, it was distant light, like the windows of the shrine temple as seen from the house back home.  
  
Home...  
  
Had it really been fifty years since he had ventured into that cave? Fifty years since a decision made in a moment of bravado had led him into forbidden territory, the first steps on a journey that had...  
  
Had gotten him killed.   
  
A shudder ran through him. Though he had been ressurected, when it was cold, and he was alone, he could still feel Kagato's sword in his guts as the space pirate had cleaved him in two. He shivered, fighting the urge to order the computer to raise the temperature.  
  
Had it all been worth it? The aches, the pains, the frustration and the terror? Was the final result worth all that? He turned from the window and looked at Ayeka, who sat at the vanity brushing her hair and Ryoko, who was floating in mid-air over the bed, her thumbs dancing over the controls of a video game.  
  
"Yes," he said softly. "Every second."  
  
Ayeka turned her head. "Did you say something, Tenchi?"  
  
"Just thinking about the past." The ruler of half the galaxy sat in a chair facing the bed. "Captain Jeffords...what's your opinion of him?"  
  
"He's no ordinary captain," Ryoko said. "He recognized my name."  
  
"Are you sure?" Ayeka asked. Ryoko nodded. "But how? There's no way he could have known it beforehand and it's a very rare name."  
  
"You're forgetting that he's human, Princess," Ryoko replied.  
  
"Ah yes," Ayeka said, frowning. "I keep forgetting humans can't pick up on the nonverbal portions of Gesterano."  
  
Gesterano, which was used by the Galactic Community at large as a common language was a simplified version of Juraian but nevertheless had the same array of subvocalized sounds and subtle nuances of body language. Curiously, with the subvocalization and body language taken out, Gesterono became extremely similar to many Terran languages, names and all.   
  
"But that could merely mean he has spent some time in Japan," Ayeka said. "In Japanese, Ryoko is a fairly common name."  
  
The reformed space pirate shook her head. "No. It was more then that. He's got a poker face, but I could see it in his eyes. Somehow, he recognized my name as one connected to some event. Not a personel one, just...an event."  
  
"But what sort of event?" Ayeka wondered.  
  
Ryoko shrugged, a gesture whose results did not go unnoticed by either Tenchi or Ayeka. "Beats the hell out of me," she said, tossing the video game onto the bedside table. "I'm not telepathic."  
  
"But you could tell he recognized your name," Ayeka said with heavy sarcasam. "And that it wasn't the name of someone he had been close to."  
  
"It's called 'tells', Princess," Ryoko said with a smirk. "It's how you can tell how good someone's poker hand is. All it is is body language and a little logic. Everyone has tells, even full body borgs, if you know what to look for." She ticked them off on her fingers. "His eyes went a bit blank, means it was a memory, but not a romantic one. His heart rate stayed the same, so it wasn't a bad memory or a scary one, or any one that could've involved adrenaline or any extreme emotion. His eyes narrowed, so he was thinking, putting pieces into place and such. Since it happened right after you said my name, he obviously recognized my name in connection with some event." She spread her hands. "You just have to know what to look for."  
  
Ayeka sprang off her chair and grabbed Ryoko, pulling her down to the bed, elicting a surprised sqauwk from Ryoko. "And did my 'tells' say I would do that?"  
  
"No," Ryoko said, and rolled, straddling Ayeka. "Did mine say I would do that?" Ayeka's response was to tickle Ryoko, who ticked back. Fairly soon, both women were rolling around on the bed, giggling and emitting the occasional moan as questing fingertips crossed spots that were less ticklish and more sensitive.  
  
Tenchi watched with some amusement until the struggle brought them near him, at which point, two arms grabbed him and pulled him between the combatats, where it became quickly apparent that things other then tickling were on their minds.  
  
**************  
  
Amagi sighed to himself as he signed his name on the plate and dumped the report into the queue where it would be e-mailed to the officers of Amagicorp.  
  
There were many pluses to being the billionaire owner of a company, but administration wasn't one of them. However, most billionaires didn't have Isabelle. The android could quickly and efficiently sort through the data and deal with the day to day, leaving him free to work on that which needed to be worked on.  
  
However, even with Isabelle filtering the wheat from the chaff, it still took up the better part of his morning to clear his desk of the day's tasks. Pulling the keyboard in front of him, he composed a short memo to Amagicorp's employees commending them for their hard work for the current fiscal quarter. He could've had Isabelle do it, that's what assistants were for, but Amagi found that the occasional "personal touch" worked wonders.  
  
With the sheep fed, Amagi turned his attention to the buyout of a small upstart robotics firm. It's idea of a giant, armed, and armored robot, a "buma", that could compress itself down to human proportions seemed ludicrous, but Stingray, their head scientist insisted it could be done. Amagi decided to put the matter before the stockholders and let them decide. Now, what next? Asteroid mining or the Amagicorp worker's strike in Africa?  
  
The com beeped. "Yes?" he said absently.  
  
"Doctor Jun Ozora to see you, Professor," Isabelle's voice said.  
  
Amagi brightened. "Send her in, of course."  
  
Not a moment later, his office door slid open and Jun Oroza stepped in. Immediately, Amagi could tell something was wrong. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her normally confident walk unsteady, and her hands were visibly trembling.  
  
"I'm sorry to bother you, Hiroshi," Jun said, "but I didn't know who else to turn to."  
  
"That's what friends are for," Amagi said. "Please, sit." Jun sat. Though there was a time when they had been more then friends, that had been more then a decade ago. A great deal had changed since then. For both of them. "Before I forget," Amagi said, passing her a cred card, the number two hundred and fifty thousand on it's readout. "For Nozomu."  
  
"Hiroshi, you don't-"  
  
Amagi held up his hand. "Now, now, Jun, I would feel remiss if I didn't do at least something to help you raise the lad." He folded his hands on the desk. "Though I admit I'm a little surprised that Ken hasn't said anything. One would think he'd notice a quarter million appearing in your bank account every month."  
  
"I can't say. It's so hard to read the man sometimes. I don't think he notices, but..."  
  
"You can never tell with Ken," Amagi finished. "But enough of him. What's wrong?"  
  
"I...it...this is so embarrassing..."  
  
"I promise I shall never tell another living soul," Amagi said grandly, hand on his heart.  
  
"It's...It's Mirai. She's Moldiver!"  
  
Amagi's jaw dropped.  
  
**************  
  
Karou Misaki sat on the bed in his quarters, listening to the sound of the shower and Mirai softly singing. Had it really been three years?  
  
His last words to Mirai before the Jump had been that he loved her. At the time, he had said it only to keep her from going into the sun. And then the moment in the Sakigake, where she had given him the mol-unit. Then he had Jumped, arriving in the Juraian's home system, some seven thousand light years away. Ironic, considering he was supposed to have gone to Sirius B, Polaris, and finally Alpha Centauri before coming home.  
  
At first, he had been overwhelmed at being on an extra solar planet, talking with real aliens. Then the Killithain had attacked a few months later, and he had gotten caught up in trying to stay alive. But once they had settled in Altais, about a year ago, he had found himself remembering her, the way she smiled, and laughed. Despite many offers, he had not sought other women, and his one try with a VR program had left him feeling dirty and used.  
  
The door hissed open and he turned to see her exiting the bathing area dressed in a thin robe that clung to her body, still damp from the shower. She was taller then he remembered, and her eyes had lost some of their shine to replaced by something dark and cold.   
  
"Growth spurt," she said, almost embarrassed as she sat next to him on the bed. "And I've been working out, training and stuff." Misaki found his eyes drawn to her legs. They were long and muscular, but still slender. Hurriedly, he jerked his eyes back up to her face, a part of him noticing the flat stomach, trim waist and full breasts hinted at by the robe. She was watching him, smiling slightly.  
  
"You look...fine...and..." he trailed off and his eyes moved back down to the slight hint of cleavage revealed by the robe. "Um," he jerked his eyes back up, to find that she had moved her head closer to his.  
  
"Karou," she said softly, touching his cheek with her hand. A lightning jolt surged through him as with simply a touch, she pulled him closer. "Where's the kitchen?"  
  
Misaki fell off the bed in what an anime fan would call a "full face fault". "There," he said, his voice partially muffled by the carpet and pointing at a rectangular hole in the wall, ringed with buttons. "Just tell it what you want."  
  
"Thanks." He watched her get up and cross the room, triggering a discussion between the two voices that live in the head of every male since the dawn of time.  
  
(Oh yeah, look at that, will you?)  
  
(Don't be so crude. Granted, she is attractive, but it's been three years since you two last saw each other.)  
  
(Years, shmears, baby, yeah!)  
  
(Now just one minute-)  
  
Mirai bent over slightly to read the buttons on the bottom of the kitchen.  
  
(Whoowhee!. Mm-mm-mmm. My friend, the train is in the station, and you have a VIP pass. Hop on and get ready to ride!)  
  
(Don't be so crude. You can't even be sure the she still possesses an ardor for you. For all you know, she has another paramour.)  
  
(Trust me, man, she wants you, she wants you bad. Yeah, Baby, yeah.)  
  
As though his body had a mind of it's own, he stood, walked over to the kitchen. Mirai, seeing his shadow on the wall, turned to face him. "Karou?"  
  
"Mirai," he said softly. "Mirai, you need to go...if you don't, I...I won't be able to stop myself from...from..."  
  
The rest of his sentence hung unsaid between them.  
  
She smiled and untied her robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Who said I wanted you to stop?" she asked softly.  
  
And Misaki did not stop...Not for several hours, anyway. 


End file.
